


And I Burn

by AngelWithAStory



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Canon Backstory, Character Study, Drabble, Taako-centric, implied Taako/Kravitz
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-05
Updated: 2016-11-05
Packaged: 2018-08-29 02:53:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8472691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelWithAStory/pseuds/AngelWithAStory
Summary: Taako was used to burning.He was used to the heat of a fire as he cooked over it. The heat of a kitchen as he performed his magic. The blaze of the stage lights as a fond memory, somewhere in the back of his mind.





	

**Author's Note:**

> yay first fic for TAZ! I almost didn't upload this but then I realised, hey. Fuck it. who else is going to post it?
> 
> Anyway, yeah. Have fun with this <3

Taako was used to burning.

He was used to the heat of a fire as he cooked over it. The heat of a kitchen as he performed his magic. The blaze of the stage lights as a fond memory, somewhere in the back of his mind.

He remembered Sazed.

He remembered the quiet nights after the crowds spent together and the early mornings packing up or setting up and the long days just travelling together, side by side. Just them. Just good ol’ Taako and Sazed.

Taako remembered watching Sazed. Always stupid, simple mundane stuff. Setting up the lights. Trying a new recipe Taako cooked up. Dozing while Taako took over the cart.

All small sparks that let Taako _burn_.

Hearing a crowd call his name, falling asleep in Sazed’s arms that night. Doing it over and over and over again.

Taako _burned_.

A bottle.

One small bottle filled with poison that Taako never saw.

And Taako got burned.

 

Sazed left.

Taako could never bring himself to blame Sazed.

He wouldn’t want to stay with a murderer either.

 

There were no flames for a while.

Only the charred remains Taako called himself as he dragged through the days.  No spark, except arcana. No heat besides the campfire.

Magnus and Merle were his only saving graces.

They were the only ones who could.

The only ones who could rekindle a spark.

The only ones who could make Taako feel like something more than a wretched excuse for an Elf.

 

He watched the small sparks in Magnus and Merle as they grew close and fought the bad guys and saved the innocents and tried to bury all their failures down deeper than they ever thought possible.

He watched the small flame in Magnus’ chest stay true and stay bright. Blazing enough to protect. Bright enough to love and be loved back. Warm enough to stave off the cold that hung around them in their quiet moments.

(After training, sweat-soaked and too tired to keep the mental defences up; long nights when they couldn’t sleep and couldn’t find comfort in each other; epilogue moments, when the Big Bad was dead and they had a moment to finally _breathe_.)

Magnus’s flame was a gentle constant. Something that Taako didn’t know he’d been craving his entire life until he had it.

Taako watched the spark in Merle kindle with a vague sense that it would be something more, one day. The electricity in the air before a lightning storm. The collision before a forest fire. (Bad metaphor. Wooden arm and all that.)

Merle grew as the fire in his chest began to feed. He made friends. He grew strong. He lost his arm, but then, you know, Pan came through for him. And the fire still burned.

It burned and it burned until Merle practically _glowed_.

(A guiding light through all their shitty missions and slightly _less_ shitty downtime between them; the holy residue that he carried with him that Pan liked to tap into every so often; the light that drew his allies close and kept away the darkness.)

 

Taako saw the sparks in everyone.

Maybe it was magic.

Maybe it was a metaphor.

He saw the spark in Killian ignite as she trained and whenever Carey happened to walk by. He saw the spark in the Director whenever they came back to her: a bit broken, a bit bloodied, a bit older and wearier, but _alive_ and _victorious_ and _there_. He saw the spark leave Leon’s eyes every time they showed their face.

 

Taako could feel his dwindling.

Not dying. Never dying.

But not as bright. Not as warm. Not as powerful.

Still there.

Just.

 

_“Well, we need to talk, hm?”_

Yep.

That’d do it.

**Author's Note:**

> Drop by at [queenmoggy.tumblr](http://queenmoggy.tumblr.com/) to say hi <3


End file.
